


Home in the Clouds

by alessandralee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandralee/pseuds/alessandralee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye and Lance get settled in their new home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home in the Clouds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weasleyspotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weasleyspotter/gifts).



> Written for Sonika, for the prompt "take out," this ended up being longer than intended.

“Well, we officially have a bed to sleep in tonight,” Lance announces from the doorway of what will soon be Skye’s office. “I’d say that’s enough for tonight, but you’ve probably got a whole list for me.”

Skye tears her eyes away from her computer to respond, “If the fridge is working at there’s toilet paper in the bathroom, then I think we’ll last the night. We can tackle the rest of the bedroom in the morning, and everyone’s coming over in the afternoon to help with the rest of the house.”

“And how’s the Wi-Fi coming, then?” he gestures towards the computer.

Skye sighs before answering.

“Well it’s up, but it’s not up to SHIELD-appropriate levels of security yet.”

Lance peers at at the screen, which is open to a google search.

“Should you be using it yet?”

He doesn’t pretend to be a computer expert (actually, it’s a pretty well known fact amongst the team that he’s probably the last person you should go to for computer help), but that seems pretty basic to him.

Skye laughs.

“I seriously doubt a google search for a pizza place that will deliver to our new home is going to compromise our identities as SHIELD agents.”

Well, when she puts it that way, it makes perfect sense. That’s why he usually just smiles and nods when she’s speaking hacker.

On cue, Lance’s stomach growls.

“Do you want me to order it?” he asks, knowing how Skye is both easily distracted by the Internet and the kind of person who gets caught up in her work and forgets to eat. He doesn’t want to come back later, asking why the pizza hasn’t shown up, only to find out it hasn’t been ordered.

“Yes please,” she responds enthusiastically.

Skye hands Lance a scrap of paper with a phone number written on it. His cell phone is currently sitting in the bedroom, on top of the navy blue coverlet Skye picked out soon after they decided to move out of the base.

“And Lance?” Skye adds when he turns to leave to grab the phone.

“Yeah?”

“That pizza had better be at least half pepperoni. I refuse to eat any of that pineapple crap you like on yours.”

“Yes dear,” he replies.

She takes her food almost as seriously as she takes her Internet connection.

\--

When the pizza arrives, Lance pays for it and yells up to Skye that it’s here. He then checks the two drawers he’s already filled for the emergency paper plates and napkins they bought to eat off of for the first few days. They have tiny elves on them because the Christmas stuff was on sale.

When he’s put them out on the counter and Skye still hasn’t appeared, he figures she’s in that work-induced haze where the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

So he trudges up the stairs to get her. It takes more effort than usual, and considerably more cursing on Skye’s part. He has to remind her that the computer will still be there after she eats, and that she’s probably less likely to become physically violent with it once she’s had some food in her stomach.

When he finally coaxes her downstairs, they’re both met with the realization that their kitchen table (a handmade housewarming gift from Mack) isn’t arriving until tomorrow, and their chairs are still lying in their Ikea boxes on the floor.

“Dinner in bed?” Skye suggests, grabbing the pizza box off the kitchen counter.

Lance considers the living room, but there’s literally nothing in there except a quilt Skye bought at a flea market a year ago. They could set up in the office, which has a large desk and two chairs in it, but that would just remind Skye of the work that’s driving her up the wall. Maybe they could just sit on the kitchen floor.

“As long as we use double paper plates,” he acquiesces, piling the plates, napkins, cups, and the bag of garlic knots he ordered into the crook of his left arm.

“Since when do you care about making a mess?” Skye asks.

Neither of them is exactly neat, but she’s usually a bit better about it that he is. The only cleaning he remembers to do regularly is his guns.

“I care about not ruining that stupid comforter,” he tells her. “It cost a bloody fortune.”

“I asked you to come pick one out with me,” she reminds him. “You said you’d be totally fine with whatever I picked out.”

“I didn’t think you’d spend so—“ he starts to argue, then stops himself. It’s his first instinct to put up a fight over pretty much everything, but it’s just not worth it to argue over a blanket. “Fine, I’m sure I’ll grow to love it.”

“I promise,” Skye reassures him. “I’d like sleeping under a cloud.”

“Then I don’t want to our cloud to get pizza grease all over it before we’ve even used it properly,” he put the conversation back on track. “What do you want to drink?”

“Did you put the wine Jemma gave us in the fridge?” Skye asks. “The chocolate-infused one?”

“Pizza and chocolate?” Lance wrinkles his nose in an exaggerated manner, but opens the fridge to look. Pretty much the only thing in it right now is their personal booze collections from the Playground. That and coffee creamer.

“It’s delicious, okay. Jemma has like 5 bottles of it on hand at any moment. It’s that good.”

“I always did have Simmons pegged at the wino,” Lance jokes. “She hides it well, though.”

Skye balances the pizza box against her hip so she can reach out and swat and Lance’s side. Then she reaches into the fridge and grabs the wine.

“Just open it and meet me upstairs. I’ll grab my laptop and we can watch a movie or something,” she tells him. “Oh, and I’ll change into pajamas. That’ll be great,” she says mostly to herself.

“The sexy ones?” Lance asks with a cheeky grin.

Skye grins back.

“Depends how fast you can open that bottle.”

It takes him less than five minutes to put everything down, uncork the wine, pick it all back up, and make it to the bedroom.”

“Pizza, wine, and sexy lady, what more could a man want?” he tells her with a wink.

“Garlic breath,” Skye counters, pulling the bag of knots out of his hands.


End file.
